


Fallen

by Neila_Nuruodo



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arguing, M/M, They need therapy but sadly all they have is each other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:01:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23147401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neila_Nuruodo/pseuds/Neila_Nuruodo
Summary: After overseeing Shiva's defeat, Nabriales goes to report back to Lahabrea on what transpired.  His frustrations at the other Ascian's treatment boil over, prompting an argument that will have surprising revelations...ok it's porn the revelations are porn
Relationships: Lahabrea/Nabriales
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22





	Fallen

"How unfortunate."

I turned away from the warrior, violet energy swirling about me as I stepped through reality. I blinked into the dim light of my destination, slipping my mask and hood off as I glanced around to locate Lahabrea. As my eyes adjusted to the gloom, I caught movement in the doorway—a glance showed me the familiar fanged mask beneath the cowl. I drew a deep breath, trying—with limited success—to banish my annoyance.

"As you predicted, the vessel did indeed survive the transformation. She was defeated by the crystal bearer, but effected an escape with no ill effects beyond a brief spell of weakness."

The news brought a smile to his lips beneath the mask, and my annoyance mounted at his clear pleasure. “Truly excellent. It is just as I anticipated. For one with the Echo, at the least, the transformation can be repeated as necessary. Likely this will also work for the unblessed, though they may fall thrall to their own false gods, or—in fact, more probably—expend too much of their strength in the effort, leaving them vulnerable or even draining them fatally.”

I crossed my arms, one foot tapping my annoyance. Could he not mull over the possibilities on his own time?

"Yes… the archbishop will prove an admirable subject for the next test; lacking the blessing of the Echo, the effects of its protections should prove immediately clear. Of course, it may be that he will _not_ be defeated, that he might usher in the next Rejoining instead… all well and good, but his presence cannot be tolerated in the long-term. Nay, he must fall sooner or later…"

I rolled my eyes. The temptation to simply take my leave rose, and I began to pivot away from him. If he had any further orders, he was certainly taking his time in getting around to them. Perhaps I could feasibly claim...

He broke off, his tone filling with reproach. “Nabriales. Do you fail to see the possible implications of this?”

My frustration boiled over, and I whirled on him. “What I _see_ is that you have lost your focus. You are so caught up in your experiments, the possibilities, that you have forgotten our true goal. These experiments serve one purpose, and one purpose only: to effect His completion. Yet you persist in aggrandizing yourself, while our slumbering brethren _languish,_ while sundered life continues to cling to the false path."

He opened his mouth to retort, but I had had enough of him. "Nay—for once _you_ shall listen to _me._ I believe you fail to comprehend the _horror_ of being incomplete, of being a fragment of one’s true self. After all, you were never subjected to such an indignity. How could you truly understand? I will not be chastised for my impatience to reach completion, especially not by one who has never experienced the condition himself."

His mouth continued to hang open, though for once he seemed bereft of words. I stepped closer, more than willing to use every ilm of my height to drive my point home.

“Instead you lose yourself in these experiments, tinkering and toying with whatever bauble holds your fancy for the moment. Oh, at times it advances the cause, yes—but when it fails to do so, you do not cut your losses and move on, instead obsessing over the why, tweaking this, adjusting that, spending time we can ill afford in an attempt to bring reality in line with your vision. All well and good for you, but will there not be time enough for such studies once the Great Rejoining is complete? Experiment to your heart’s content once we have finished our work, but for now let us focus upon proven stratagems, tried and true methods so as not to delay unnecessarily the completion of our star.”

“That is an overstatement. I am quite good at what I do; my plans succeed often enough that teasing out the reason for any failures proves a worthwhile endeavor more often than not. What’s more, understanding the root of any failures makes certain that future—”

“More justification. Excuses to soothe your conscience, while we suffer the affront of a partial existence in service to your experiments.”

“Nabriales, I—”

I cut him off, too angry to hear what he might say. "I would not expect you to understand."

Beneath the mask, the tight line of his lips slackened; it seemed my words had struck home.

“We are naught to you. Tools, at the most. You use us and cast us aside when we have served our purpose. We give our devotion to this cause, and in return we are your shields, your weapons, so you unsundered need not soil your own hands. How many times must we prove ourselves? What must we do to earn—”

"Enough," he bit out, hands clenched to shaking fists. "Proceed as we have discussed. I will issue further instructions as necessary." With those words he disappeared, leaving me hanging mid-rant. For a breath I simply stared at the space where he had been standing. Of all the—

Lips drawing back in fury, I sent power out, skittering in his wake, tracing his passage. It had nearly dissipated during my moment of shock, but I managed to catch its remnants. Destination found, I sent myself hurtling through space after him. I landed in a library, dark-paneled wood and crowded bookshelves, my head turning until I spotted Lahabrea.

He stood leaning—bowed, in truth, and the realization struck me like a blow to the gut—one fisted arm propping him against the wall. His mask was off, clutched in the other hand to his chest, pressed so hard it creased the fabric. I gazed for the first time into bright gold eyes, currently wide with surprise, though anger and hurt gathered like stormclouds within them. I took a step closer, realizing they were red and bloodshot, and my next step faltered as he straightened and I saw tears gleaming on his cheeks.

"Have you not said enough? I wish to be alone."

My words stuck in my throat, choking me to silence. He… wept? How? Why? From my words, I realized, or the cruel conviction they must have engendered. I stood, faltering within, suddenly questioning why I had pursued him here. To rail at him further for his insensitivity—yet there upon his face shone evidence to directly contradict that assumption. I grit my teeth, forcibly summoning back my confidence. It was too late to leave without losing face at this point.

“And I wish to finish making my point. If you persist in treating us like mere servants, what precedent does that set once the Great Work is complete? Will we ever truly be your equals? At what point will we begin to rate the respect due our original positions? And what of those who were not originally on the Convocation? Do they not deserve recognition for the risks they take?”

“Of course. How could anyone suggest otherwise?”

“You say that, but it is not borne through by your actions or those of the other Unsundered. We are no comrades of yours; you keep your own company, your own counsel. We hold no authority beyond the power inherent to our positions—and that, I suspect, only because that power proves useful to our cause.”

His jaw clenched. “I can see why you might feel that to be the case. Yet let me hasten to assure you that the truth of the matter is not so sinister as that. We must needs delegate tasks, and we have not the time to discuss in the larger forum the precise disposition or the best plan of action. Courses must be determined quickly and decisively, and only we few and fortunate have the broad base of knowledge required to do so effectively.”

“And yet, the outcome is that we are your pawns, privy only to scraps of knowledge, whatever falls from the vast banquet you Unsundered hoard among yourselves. What profit, after all, in teaching us if we are destined but to fall, forced to rise again, begin again from nothing? Despite the low likelihood of a Convocation shard falling thanks to the might we wield, the protections our positions afford us, you assume the worst and treat us accordingly.”

"If I acknowledge the truth of your words, will you then leave me in peace?"

"I do not want your lip service, Lahabrea. I wish you to _listen._ I am utterly _finished_ with being dismissed by—"

His arm snapped out, the mask flying aside to thud against a bookshelf; I tried to suppress a flinch at the sudden motion. “Then what? What must I do to get you to leave me in peace? Retreating to my sanctum was not enough; visible distress has left you unmoved. Asking politely has not borne any fruit. Shall I _force_ you to leave?”

“As though you could,” I growled, then shook my head. Challenge was not my goal, though it was damnably difficult not to rise to the one offered. “Perhaps if you were to truly _listen_ to what I say I would not feel the need to be so forceful in my delivery.”

“You think I have not been listening.”

“What else am I to assume? You seem utterly untouched by my words. Are you simply that heartless? Do the words of the sundered hold no meaning for you?”

“Nay, nay, and a thousand times nay. Perhaps it is _you_ who fails to discern the truth. Or do you think I was languishing in self-pity upon your arrival? You forget, perhaps, that it is _I_ who work most closely with the sundered. Of all of us, I care the most—I take you under my wing, instruct you, guide you, direct you. I stand upon the front lines with you—oft at the very forefront of the fight, lest you forget. Even now I am recuperating from wounds received in battle… or have you forgotten the reason you were called to this posting upon the Source?”

My lips pursed; in truth, I had, if only for a moment. Heat warmed my cheeks. “While true, it speaks more to the disregard we are generally shown than to your own magnanimity. You do not completely ignore and disregard us, true, but there are worlds of difference between shaping us into useful tools and treating us as befits our positions."

"Did you not but late argue for the hastening of the work? The knowledge we Unsundered hold was gained over aeons beyond your knowing. Shall we take a few centuries off from our efforts to give you a crash course?" My cheeks reddened once more at his uncomfortably keen point. "You know as well as I that it simply is not practical. We tell you what you need to know as you need to know it; once the Great Work is complete all else shall be remedied." He turned toward the wall, folding his arms. "I am disappointed in you, Nabriales. I know you have the capacity to determine this much on your own. That you have chosen not to is telling. Would that it were surprising. That will be all for now."

I glared at his back, considering hauling him around to face me. It would likely spark yet more argument, but I was not satisfied that he had truly given ear to my grievances. His shoulder twitched, just, and I narrowed my eyes in time to see another hitch. Confusion burst into clarity moments later as I realized he must be weeping again, and the frustration in my gut soured to guilt.

"Now, look—that was not my intent. I confess I let my emotions sweep me away a bit. This is a rather fraught subject, at least for me. But—”

"Nay, I shall waste no more of my time and breath upon this subject. You have the ability and knowledge to do better than spend my time in futile and circular arguments. I have not the time to school you in the matter of debate."

“Lahabrea—wait—”

He did not turn back. “Do not press me on this, Nabriales. I am weary of this conversation. Order your thoughts and present them to me in a logical fashion when next we meet, if you must, but for now I insist that you leave me.”

My fists clenched, my teeth gritting in annoyance. Yet again he sought to push me aside when _I was not done._ Well, I would not permit it. “Were you to _listen_ for just one moment longer, you would realize that I am trying—”

“Enough.” The word was soft, but he sunk implacable command into it. But I was in no mood to heed it—yet _again_ he failed to listen to the salient portion of my speech. Hands twisting into the hair at the sides of my head in half-crazed fury, I closed the distance between us.

“Can you not see that I’m _trying_ to apologize, you insufferable man?”

Finally he turned back, showing gleaming eyes, a clenched jaw, and flushed cheekbones. “Are you, though? Or is this simply a vehicle for more torment?”

For a moment I just stared, feeling as though the wind had been knocked from me. I _did_ want to apologize, damn him. His scorn made it clear how unusual he thought such behavior of me, only worsening the hurt from being disbelieved.

“You wish to be left alone? Fine; let my actions be my apology.” I turned away, preparing to teleport, but was halted by his bitter laugh.

“How typical. You make claims of good intentions but flee before seeing them through. I should never have let my hopes rise.”

I whirled, my heart thudding, my mind a twisted melange of conflicting emotions. I drove forward, invading his space to slam my hands against the wall on either side of him. “Then let me _apologize!_ I am _sorry,_ Lahabrea! I misjudged both you and the situation catastrophically! I felt terrible about it the moment I arrived here, and now regret is tearing me apart from within! _What more do you want of me?!”_

He lunged at me, but before I could tense for a fight the press of soft lips against my own left me arrested. My eyes flew wide, my hands clenching into fists against the wall, and I cried out in surprise, an ascending note moaned into his mouth. But I recovered quickly from the shock, determined to turn the tables on him. _This,_ at least, was familiar territory for me. Heart still fast, head still spinning as puzzle pieces turned, realigning, slotting into place to form a suddenly coherent picture, I forced my twisted hurt and ire aside and took charge of the kiss. He groaned as my lips moved over his, my tongue slipping in to find his own, and when we parted it was because _I_ drew gently back. He panted, lips gleaming enticingly, and it was only with effort that I did not bend to claim them once more for my own. Instead I put on a smirk.

"Well, well. This I did _not_ anticipate."

He dragged in a breath. "I warned you not to press me on this." His hands shoved at my shoulders, the feeble gesture utterly unconvincing. "Now. Leave me." He turned his face to the side, the profile of his hood partially masking his expression. Crimson blossomed on his cheek, and his lips pressed tightly together, as though he had more to say but was trying to hold it back.

"No. What _was_ that?"

"Behavior inappropriate to and unbecoming of a superior toward his subordinate. I am sorry. I give you my word that it will not happen again."

My eyes narrowed. "Now hold just a moment. Did I give you some indication that it was unwelcome?"

He sighed. "It matters not. It is an unacceptable abuse of my position..."

I forestalled what threatened to be a lengthy lecture directed primarily at himself by reaching up to lower his cowl to his shoulders.

"What are you doing?"

I didn't respond immediately, staring at—of all things—long golden locks spilling down to his shoulders. A powerful urge to run my hands through them seized me; my fingertips trembled from the force of it. I was reminded of the rumor I'd heard from one of the other black-robes, that he never bothered to alter his hosts. I wondered if it was true, or if he had shaped this form—if he had chosen to wear such a bright, almost whimsical style.

"Nabriales," he growled.

I laid my index finger over his lips, derailing his thoughts; his jaw fell slack, lips parting softly as his attention turned toward my hand. I smiled, pleased, and gave into the urge, running my hands through his hair. He took a deep, uneven breath. "Why are you doing this?"

"You speak too much... Speaker."

As expected, his lips parted on some annoyed complaint. I gave him no chance to voice it, diving in, plundering his mouth—demanding now where I had only coaxed before. He grunted, his hands fisting in the fabric of my robe as his balance faltered and he went half-limp against me. I caught him, a bit surprised by the intensity of his reaction but more than willing to work with it.

Helpless against the impulse, I pinned his hips to the wall with my own in my bid to support him; we moaned in simultaneous pleasure at the friction. I clamped down hard on the urge to grind my rapidly hardening length against him, instead wrapping one arm securely around his back as support and running the other hand up his chest, his neck, to comb fingertips through his hair.

He sighed, relaxing further into my hold beneath the gentle touches as I softened the kiss, shifting to sweet caresses of lips on lips and the occasional tease of a tongue-tip. I drew back, smiling, and nipped at his lower lip before sucking it in gently between my teeth, eyes slipping open now to watch his expression. His own eyes were half-closed, bright gold like half-coins peeping from beneath the lids, and he drew a sharp breath as I bit down gently and let his lip slide through my teeth, drawing it back in before it could fully escape.

As I repeated the tease I also rolled my hips slowly, once, against his. He gave an ascending moan, almost a whimper, and those golden eyes rolled up, back as he trembled against me. Smiling, I released him, letting my hand slip back down to cradle his face. Glimmering aurum disappeared as his eyes fell closed, and he drew a shuddering breath. Another. My grin widened as I watched him scramble after control, clasping it with tenuous but growing strength. He straightened, standing fully once more, and I drew my arm from behind him, fisting it against the wall and letting my hips pull back, just a bit, to where I yet crowded him without pinning him.

When his eyes reopened they were dark, stormy with a tempest of emotion. “Nabriales…” he said, and drew another deep breath. I tipped my head to the side invitingly in response. When he seemed unable to complete the thought, I regarded him a touch more seriously.

"Lahabrea… how long?"

"What do you mean?" he managed.

I tipped his chin up a few degrees to stop him from evading my gaze. "Your knees went weak as soon as I kissed you. How long have you wanted this?"

He laughed, an incredulous huff. "You don't remember. You couldn't." He sighed. "You are much like him, you know. Who you used to be. Your soul shows true." He smiled, crooked, and raised a hand to lightly brush my cheek. "Even as you are."

"Back then," I said, and fumbled a moment for words. "We were…"

He chuckled. "No. I doubt you would have been interested. Even then I was much older—too bookish, too scholarly, for one as outgoing and radiant as yourself. You would not have shared my interest."

"You seem so certain. Did you ever test the theory?"

"Ha! No. I had enough to keep me busy. Especially as…" He cleared his throat.

"The Final Days," I finished softly for him. He nodded, lips pressed tight.

"Just so. And afterwards it was rather a moot point. But working together as we have been, getting to know you better, has put it once more to the fore of my mind." He drew himself up with a deep breath. "At any rate, I feel you deserve to know why I behaved so indecently."

He seemed to be working himself toward backing down, so I kissed him again. He made a sound of surprise against my lips, his hands blindly grasping once more at my clothing. I fisted one hand in his glorious golden locks, using the grip to turn his head for better access to his mouth. He groaned, again sagging in my grip. I hummed a note of satisfaction as I got him just how I wanted, my tongue stroking long, slow paths into his mouth before withdrawing only to press in again and again, until his chest heaved against my own and I finally relented. His head fell with a groan as I released him, and he rested his cheek on my shoulder, his panting breaths painting my neck with warmth. I kneaded my fingers through his hair, rubbing his scalp in gentle circles until he caught his breath and straightened once more.

“What are your intentions, Nabriales? What are you trying to accomplish by this? I find it difficult to believe you have suddenly discovered an interest in me.”

I sighed, tempted to rub my temples. Instead I cradled his jaw, running the pad of my thumb over his lips. “You have been something of a thorn in my side, your behavior an enigma to me. One moment you dismiss me without warning, the next you wish to discuss the intricacies of creation and animation of nonliving constructs. Any word from me might send you into a lecture, an impromptu lesson, or a funk. It has been utterly baffling. Infuriating.” I smiled and leaned close, whispering a feather-light kiss over his lips. “And the moment you kissed me, it all fell into place.” Unmasked as he was, it was easy to read him—widening eyes hinted at recollection, my own behaviors and words, perhaps, falling into a new context for him as his had for me. The golden gaze turned inward, and his lips parted. Still smiling, I kissed him once more, drawing his attention back to the present. I pulled back, just enough to meet his eyes again.

"My intentions are simple. Instead of leaving you to languish in unrequited desire, I shall seduce you. Give you what you so desperately crave. Give you fulfillment… all the while savoring my own triumph, the sway I hold over you.” His eyes were locked to mine, as though he hung suspended from each word.

“I have not pined for you, true. But I have chafed beneath you. To feel you tremble against me is sweet indeed by comparison. The great Unsundered, undone by my touch, my kiss, my charms…" I bent once more to claim his lips, lingering over them for a long moment, savoring the way he clung to me, the soft sounds he seemed helpless to suppress beneath my ministrations. I drew back with a sigh. “I do not aim to break your heart, never fear. But I would not be myself if I let an opportunity to level the playing field between us pass me by." My smile widened. "If such a liaison makes our working relationship more comfortable—and, for my part at least, I do not see how it could fail to do so—then I am eager to explore it. And I would be lying were I to claim that I did not find your regard… intoxicating." My smile fell away, and I pinned him with an intent stare. "Coming to understand that the difficulties, the frustrations I have borne sprung not from scorn but suppressed desire changes _everything._ So… what say you?"

His eyes dropped as his hand found my chest, smoothing down the fabric of my robe to feel the flesh beneath. Slowly he moved up, until he reached my shoulder; his fingertips fouled in the loose fabric of my hood. "I can see how my behavior must have seemed to you. I bear much for our cause, and though I tried to treat you equitably, I can see numerous points at which exhaustion or distraction caused me to fail. I am sorry."

"That is not what I am asking for." I tipped his face up to mine. "What's done is done; it cannot be called back. And, you must realize, were it not for those 'failures,' we likely would not have found ourselves here. Now that we are, though—now that we have a new avenue open before us—will you accept what I offer? Will you succumb to me?"

His hand had not been idle as I spoke; reverent fingertips traced lines up and down the back of my neck, making my skin tingle. Tempted I was to seize his lips once more, to make him groan and fall against me again, though I knew well it would be unkind to influence his decision so.

His eyelids slid down, hiding the bright gold of his irises, and his hand dropped to hang by his side. "In truth, it would perhaps be for the best—"

I cut him off with another kiss, and he sighed against me once more. I let one hand slip up his figure to twine loosely in his hair, leaving it there when I pulled back to speak.

"Again I say: that is not the question I asked. I wish only to know what you _desire._ Spare me your objective analysis and _tell me what you want."_

Brilliant eyes snapped open, ire igniting in their depths. "You ask as though you do not know. I am bending every effort toward doing right by you, for I could never forgive myself were I to in any way coerce or pressure you in this matter. If I fall back on analytical methods to—"

I pinned him with an annoyed growl, slamming my lips onto his. He gave a hoarse cry as I claimed him, hard and demanding. His hands grasped my robes, climbing their way up to encircle my neck as I pressed him against the wall. Despite my best intentions, my hips rolled against his, and I groaned as he again went pliant in my arms. Slowly I released him, smirking over his breathless state, his kiss-reddened lips.

"If you haven't figured it out yet, every time you begin to overthink the matter, I'm going to do that."

Golden eyes narrowed. "Is that intended to dissuade me?"

I laughed lightly. "If you wish me to kiss you, you have but to ask."

"Nabriales," he breathed, and pain twisted his expression. "Nay, I cannot ask such a thing. It is not appropriate—"

I leaned close once more, letting my nose brush his as I grinned. "Then you need but try and draw back—so obviously against your true wishes—and I will oblige." Slowly I closed the miniscule distance remaining between us, letting my lips brush over his. A needy sound tore from him, and I pressed more firmly, chuckling over his hunger, his well-meant but misguided—and ultimately utterly futile—attempts to distance himself. To protect me, as though I cared one whit about his authority beyond the coveted position and possibility of favor that grudgingly accepting it gave me. I did not release him until he gasped once more for air, finally granting mercy enough to him that he might catch his breath—briefly.

He rested his head back against the wall as his heart beat hard against my own, chest rising and falling in a rapid rhythm. “I cannot say I fail to appreciate your forwardness, but it does not change the fact of our current relationship. Readily I acknowledge myself a poor leader, but I do strive to do my best. I cannot in good conscience allow myself such an indulgence.”

I chuckled, letting my hand cup his face. “Perhaps I am losing my touch, then! I shall have to bring all my skills to bear…”

His eyes widened at my words, lips parting on some disavowal, but I swallowed it with a swift press of my mouth over his. I gave no quarter, licking, biting, and tugging at his lips, savoring each sound he made in response, every degree of slow surrender in his form. My heart tripped faster a moment when his hand came up once more to slide up the back of my neck and bury fingers in the short strands at the base of my skull. I drew back with a groan, panting for air almost as greedily as he did, and raised his face to mine with a hand cradling his jaw, a thumb under his chin. I searched his eyes, found the gold drowning in dark _want,_ and grinned my triumph.

“Nabriales…”

I pushed hard against him, flattening him to the wall. My hips ground into his, a groan bursting from me as my erection rubbed over his own. For a moment I sagged into his frame, need swamping me at the heady sensation. I worked to master it, grinding my hips against his; it was a strain to keep the motion slow, smooth. But it had the intended effect; Lahabrea panted, clinging to me, trembling and clutching. I straightened, continuing my deliberate slow thrusts as I returned my attention to his mouth.

A rough sound slipped out, ungracious, uttered against my mouth; I swallowed it and worked to draw forth more of the same, first nipping and then suckling at Lahabrea's lips. My reward was a series of ascending moans, rising in sync with the increasing tautness in his frame. Music; the sounds were music to me, a lifting hymn of praise and desire that set my blood to boiling. He began to undulate against me, helpless in the throes of the spell I wove about him.

We broke apart, gasping for air. His head lolled limply against the wall, eyes rolled back; I bent my neck, my lips finding the hollow of his jaw and exploring, kiss after kiss in a line to the base of his ear, then down his throat until the neck of his shirt stymied me. Unwilling to admit defeat, I licked my way back up to the corner of his jaw and reached down, snagging a handful of his robes and hauling them up. My other hand dove beneath, finding his hip and clasping tight, creating an avenue for the first hand to slip under as well.

Now trapped in my grasp, I ground against his hips more deliberately, and when his head fell back yet more I took advantage of the unfettered access to his neck. Soft kisses turned to firm sucks at his groaned encouragement, and his hips bucked hard into mine when I bit the flesh just below his jaw and held tight. I moaned, pressing now harder, faster, my own need spurring me. His fingers slid higher in my hair, reaching the crest on the crown of my head and mussing it in their insensate grasp. Another bite, lower this time, prompted another cry of pleasure from that fine, infuriating voice, and I drew back to see his face once more.

"Lahabrea," I panted, my fingers still digging into his hips, "I am about to claim you right here against this wall. But I am an avaricious lover, not a cruel one. I will not take you if you are going to be stricken with regret in the aftermath. Forget what I want; I already know that far better than ever you could. Think instead on whether this misplaced guilt of yours will trouble you on the morrow."

His fingers tightened in my hair as I spoke, my words affecting him and his reactions in turn driving me into a deeper frenzy.

"I likewise know what I desire. All my concern is for you."

"I need to hear you say it," I groaned, hands spasming helplessly. I pressed him harder into the wall and put my lips to his ear. "Will you make me beg, then? Will that move you—" I broke off as his hand twisted in my hair, pain blossoming on my scalp as he dragged my head back and kissed me with abandon, teeth almost bruising my lips from his desperation. Relief and satisfaction rushed through me as he finally let himself go, and my hunger rose quickly to overshadow all else.

"Please," he gasped as we broke apart. "Please, Nabriales. Forgive this old fool his weakness, but I cannot bear the thought of you leaving now." He kissed my speechless lips again, gently this time. "Do not hold back on my account, Nabriales. I crave you desperately."

Now it was I who shuddered against him, helpless from need. I had never imagined that hearing _Lahabrea_ beg would make me tremble, but today was, it seemed, a day for revelations. His fingers stroked the edge of my jaw, teasing over the hair there, and I pulled myself together. Giving him a wicked smile, I murmured, “Then I am more than happy to oblige.”

I slid my hands from his hips to the insides of his thighs, then squatted to lift him and spread his legs in one motion. He cried out in surprise as I heaved him up against the wall, his hands clutching my shoulders for stability as I brought his calves over my shoulders, raising him to the height I wanted. I kept one hand at the base of his spine to hold him close against my groin. I growled, peevish, as I wrestled my robe up until it was no longer trapped between us, letting it puddle in his lap. Searching by feel, I found the waistband of his pants and worked it down his thighs until his ass was bared and his stiff length freed.

I set to work next upon my own pants, struggling them down one-handed. As I grappled with the uncooperative material I leaned in to kiss him, channeling my annoyance into passion, claiming him with force. I made a sound of triumph as I finally sprang free. Crowding him once more, I let my stiff length press against him, drawing out a choked groan. My newly freed hand slid down his leg to cup my length; a brush of metal and the texture of leather reminded me of the glove still on my hand. I released his lips with another sound of ire, using my teeth to loosen and remove the glove, tossing it aside.

“Better,” I said, and reclaimed his mouth. He clutched at me, no longer seeming to fear for his balance but pulling me closer, burying his hands in my hair, my clothing, grasping and tangling. I fought for focus as I continued to rule his mouth, conjuring a small vial, fighting the stopper out with the hand also supporting his weight and spilling its contents heedlessly over my bared hand before letting the bottle tumble from my slick fingers. I stroked the lubricant oil over my shaft, my head dropping, breaking the seal over his lips as the friction threatened to overwhelm me.

A few deep breaths recentered me, and I raised my head, pulling back enough to focus upon Lahabrea’s face even as I realigned us both, my need grinding once more against his groin. “I fear I have quite exhausted my patience with you, Lahabrea. I hope you are prepared, because I _need_ to be inside you…” I searched his face, concerned that he might object to my needy haste but unsure how much longer I could hold myself together.

He gave a breathless chuckle in response. “Not to fear. I am more than ready for you.” He groaned, coherence evaporating as I pressed closer, the head of my member sliding up the crevasse of his thighs toward his entrance. I hissed in pleasure as I found it, feeling soft, puckered flesh give slightly about my head. Cupping myself, I lowered my weight, angling myself, and sighed as the tight aperture began to give way for me.

_Thud!_

I raised my eyes to see him wince, lifting a hand to rub the back of his head. Realizing what had happened, I gave him a teasing grin. “My, my, getting a bit carried away, are we?”

Color highlighted his cheeks; more than a flush of embarrassment, it was clear he was highly aroused. “Nabriales…” I rolled my hips in a shallow arc, pressing against his opening again, and he groaned. “Would you have me beg again, Nabriales? You did seem well moved by it…”

I groaned and sealed my lips over his. Did he want me to climax before I even finished filling him? Intolerable, damnable man… I relaxed my grip supporting him, shuddering as he slid downward onto my shaft, maintaining control by the barest margin as I filled him ilm by slow ilm. As he settled at a comfortable height I began moving my hips, starting an in-and-out that quickly brought me to the hilt within him. I kissed him until my head swam, worried he would make good on his threat and push me over the edge. Occupying his mouth and distracting him seemed to work, though; he remained quiet and quiescent when I finally drew back. Reassured that I could cling to control a bit longer, I began moving within him.

I buried my face against his neck as I found my stride, letting my lips rove over his exposed flesh, down and back up, worrying the lobe of his ear between my lips and then my teeth before finding his own lips once more. I groaned as his tongue demanded entry to my mouth, opening for him and tangling my own tongue with his in a sensual duel. Slowly I turned the tables on him, my thrusts now hard, sharp, as I chased pleasure; the feeling of him tightening about me with each nip I laid on his lips threatened to send me spiraling into ecstasy. I released his mouth, pressing my face again to his neck to recover and catch my breath.

“Nabriales,” he sobbed, his normally smooth voice overwrought, pinched high with pleasure, “please! I—” His head fell back with a needy sound as I angled my thrusts to press more firmly over his prostate. “Please—touch me… I need to feel you...”

I slipped my bared hand between our bodies, grasping his hardness in a tight fist. He cried out, tightening around me and wrenching a grunt from me in response. My hand was still slick with lubricant, and I smeared his own precum down his shaft along with what remained of the slippery oil as I began pumping him.

“Like this?” I murmured against his neck, just below his ear. “Is this what you want, Lahabrea?”

He sobbed an incoherent affirmative, hips bucking into my strokes. Pleasure washed over me, and I made a snap decision—he was close; I was close. It was time to finish it.

After all, there would be plenty more opportunities to savor the power I might wield over him.

I bit down as he began to keen a high note, my pounding pace remaining steady as he began to contract in gathering rhythmic waves around me. The feeling of his seed spilling hot over my fingers finally undid me; I groaned deep, my hips stuttering into shallow thrusts as I emptied myself into him and pleasure inundated me.

It was like going underwater—sight dimming, sound deadening, sensation overwhelmed by the intensity of the pleasure enveloping me… and I drowned in it, floating free, lungs burning and yet craving _more._ My head spun with the intensity of it, my hands clamped to grips so tight I could not tell what precisely I held so tightly to. My knees shook with the strain of holding us both up as reality slowly crept back, our harsh panting breaths ringing in my ears as the spike of ecstasy so sharp it was nearly agony finally released my groin, leaving me with the more gentle sensation of compression where I yet remained buried within him. With a sigh I let my softening length slip from him, easing his legs back down and helping support him.

For a long moment we clung together, trembling with the aftershocks of desire and pleasure. I drew him gently close against my chest, sighing as he rested his head on my shoulder, leaning against the wall for support as my shaky joints threatened to topple me. I ran fingers through his hair, smiling as he pressed blissfully into the touch.

“Not bad,” I mused over his state, “but I think I can do better… though I shall need to rest first.” He raised his head, golden eyes questioning me wordlessly. My lips widened in a grin. “Now, surely you do not think me finished with you already?” His lips parted, though he seemed once again unable to form words, and I savored the moment—it was rare that any could render the Speaker incapable of speech. After a few seconds I took pity on him, kissing him gently. “On that note—surely you have a bed somewhere in this place, mmm?”

My eyes flew wide as his arms wrapped around me, constricting abruptly. Startled into seriousness, I returned the embrace, a bit less forcefully, patting his back. He shuddered against me, his face buried in the crook of my neck, and understanding dawned.

“That is correct, Lahabrea. You will not be rid of me so easily.” I dropped one last gentle kiss on the crown of his head, continuing to rub his back until he mastered himself and raised his head. With one last brush of my lips over his, I drew back, hiking my pants up. “Lead the way.”


End file.
